Mojo
by skyeward
Summary: Prompt: "Jackanda - Jack confides in her feelings about Miranda to Shepard (Female or Male who doesn't like Miranda in general)" Rated for swears.


Shepard is way too goody-two-shoes for this, but fuck if anybody else is stupid enough to keep coming down into the godforsaken hole Jack's crawled into and actually talk to her. Even the wannabe psychologist has kept out for so long that the convict actually went up to the CIC in order to leave her message. She took the service ducts, of course - elevators aren't her style. Too bad salarians don't startle easy.

The result of her little field trip is the sound of Shepard's boots on the stairs leading down into her cubby - honestly she probably could have just waited and the woman would have appeared on her own, nosy bitch that she is, but her visits have slacked off some since Jack started yelling at her every time she tries to talk. Hard to imagine why.

"Kelly says you wanted to speak with me," the redhead begins without preamble, drawing close enough that she can rest one hip against the table that takes up half the usable space and crossing her arms over her chest. "What about?"

Jack doesn't answer at first, simply casting her gaze upwards from where she's sitting sideways on top of her cot. Her booted feet hang off the edge by the heels, her legs bent and her back against the cold metal wall. She wants to move, but Shepard's too close, so instead she thumps her fists on her raised thighs and forces the words out.

"It's about the cheerleader…Miranda, I mean." She doesn't know that she's ever spoken the other woman's name out loud before, and it tastes funny in her mouth. She fights the urge to spit. Shepard just sighs, sounding irritated. She's never been a fan of Cerberus or of the operative tacked onto her crew like a tumor, and it shows.

"What's she done this time? I thought I told her to leave you alone after Pragia. I'll go talk to her."

That is, of course, absolutely the last fucking thing Jack needs to have happen right now. She barely manages to keep from jumping to her feet and grabbing the commander, just in case.

"Shit, Shepard, chill the fuck out and listen for a minute. She didn't 'do' shit, I just gotta something to say. Ask, I guess. Fuck, I don't fuckin' know! Just, just listen and tell me what to do, okay?"

The other woman doesn't look convinced, green eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she makes no move to leave. Good. Jack's a lot better at ripping shit to pieces than holding it still…her stasis field might've fucked up the commander worse than those Collectors did.

"Fine. Say your piece."

"Shit." Jack doesn't know what the fuck to say, much less how to say it. She turns and lays down on the cot, staring at the ceiling as if it's got the secrets of the universe or something. "Fuck."

There's a moment of silence, and she can _feel_ Shepard standing there, looking at her, _judging_ her, as if she's got room to judge. Three hundred thousand batarians and who knows how many others on her hands, she's more of a killer than Jack has ever been. Brown eyes flick over to the standing woman. Then again, the biotic wouldn't have locked herself in her room for a week after that. Hell, she'd probably have thrown a party if she was the one to wipe an entire batarian system off the map. "Fucking shit!"

She rolls onto her side, back to the commander. Thinking about it isn't helping, and neither is the sardonic voice that reaches her ears a moment later.

"As enjoyable as it is, standing here listening to you curse, don't think I'm really getting much out of it."

"Oh shut the fuck up," Jack snaps back, pounding one blue-glowing fist against the wall in front of her. Eyeing the dent appreciatively for a moment, she eventually turns and rolls and brings herself to a sitting position, on the edge of the bed this time. Shepard's still too close, but when she puts her head in her hands it doesn't seem so bad. "This is tough shit to spit out. Look, I've got a thing for the bitch, okay? Like…I don't fucking know, a thing!"

Shepard's quiet for a moment, and Jack's torn between hoping she figures it out and hoping she's totally lost. She's still not even sure she really wants to talk about this.

"I thought you weren't a 'girl's club kind of person'."

Fuck, right on the fuckin' head.

"Fuck you," she curses, the first thing that pops into her head, "Or better yet don't. Cause I'm not, okay? Chicks don't usually get my panties in a twist, but her…I don't even fuckin' know. There's something about her, it just makes me wanna bend her over a table and fuck her till she screams."

"Uh…" Shepard is clearly uncomfortable, but Jack doesn't care. She needs answers, and if anybody's got them it's the Queen of the Girl Scouts. "That sounds more like…well, that doesn't sound like an emotional entanglement. I may not like Ms. Lawson, but nothing condones that kind of assault."

Jack knows what she's getting at. "Once again, fuck you. I've been on the receiving end of that, and I already told you how it ended. I might be a lot of things, but a rapist isn't one. I want the bitch to _want_ it."

Now they're just snapping at each other, both in foul moods.

"Well excuse me! Considering you were a slave and then a slaver, how am I suppose to know where you draw your lines? Look," Shepard takes a deep breath, obviously biting back her irritation before continuing. "Just tell me what you want from me. You've got the hots for the most irritating XO I've ever been forced to work with, but if that were all you wouldn't have called me down here."

Jack groans and scrubs her hands over the stubble that covers her scalp. Maybe Shepard isn't the right person to talk to after all, if she jumped to a conclusion like that about the _tamest_ of the fantasies Jack's got about screwing that uptight bitch. If the commander had the faintest idea of the list of things Jack'd like to do to that ass….but that's a topic for another day.

"Look, I just need you to tell me what the fuck I should do, okay? You've got half the tail in the galaxy throwing itself at you, so quit being a bitch and share the mojo."

"Mojo?" The blatant amusement in her voice is something Jack could do without, but at least she doesn't leave it at that. "Look, I don't know what to tell you. If I've got 'tail' throwing itself at me, it's probably because I've saved the galaxy, died, and been brought back to life. And it's irrelevant anyway, because I've got the only person I want and I'm not interested in working my 'mojo' on anyone else."

"God dammit, Shepard, that's what I'm fucking asking about! How does the…the fuckin'…I don't know, the _relationship_ shit work?"

Shepard pushes off of the table, straightening up as her hands drop to her sides.

"Again, Jack, I don't know what to tell you. Miranda…from what I know of her - and I swear if I hear back about this from anybody but the Shadow Broker herself I'll throw you out an airlock - Miranda isn't one for relationships or women. She gets her jollies from anonymous extranet hookups, with men. Hate to say it, but I think your 'thing' is probably doomed from the get-go."

"Fuck you," Jack hisses at her, tears stinging her eyes despite the fact that she pretty much already knew that she'd probably never get further than shouting matches with the white-clad bitch on wheels. The redheaded commander just put words to it, not to mention information that Jack is almost certain she didn't want to know.

Shepard turns to leave, then pauses. "I hope this doesn't affect your readiness. This mission is too important."

"Fuck you _and_ your mission! Get the fuck out, don't fuckin' talk to me. You don't wanna help me, fine, but I'll make it happen! I didn't survive this long by giving up on what I want." She blinks, holding back the tears by force of her not-inconsiderable will, and raises her head at last. She glares at Shepard's retreating back and calls after it, the easiest target for her rage. "Maybe I'll make you a vid when I do finally tap that ass, and you can see what real fucking is like!"

Then Shepard was gone and Jack was alone with her impossible feelings for a woman who would never, ever be hers.

Fuck.


End file.
